


they were haunted souls looking for peace

by TheGodWith5Yen



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Green Arrow (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Ghosts, American Sign Language, Drug Addiction, Falling In Love, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Haunted Houses, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, POV Alternating, Parallels, Supernatural Elements, thats the major character death, the batfam are ghosts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-08-22 10:10:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16595870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodWith5Yen/pseuds/TheGodWith5Yen
Summary: Roy snapped out of it, going back to dust over what he could. He was gathering up a dusty comforter from a room, too lazy to fold it, instead bundling it up in his arms, when a loud crash sounded. Roy jumped, the comforter dropping from his arms. He blinked before calling, right as Dinah called out the exact words, “You drop something-”He stepped out into the hallway, glancing down to see Dinah at the end. Her lips were in a frown, her eyebrows raised. “Huh,” she mumbled as she stepped forward, “did you hit the table when you walked past Roy?” He stared at the long stretch of floor between them, a shattered blue and white vase on the wooden floor.(Or- Oliver takes Roy up to a cabin he owns for a summer, and as the years pass Roy continues to visit it, despite the fear it brings due to the glimpses of people he sees whenever he goes. He goes and goes and somehow his soul is saved because of Dick Grayson.)





	1. Roy Harper 2003

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I got this idea after watching The Haunting of Hill House (which oh my god that was emotional oh man), there'll be some sad moments, but some happy ones. I wanted to wait to post the first chapter until I had more written but I have no chill and am excited about this so! Hope you all enjoy <3
> 
> This begins in 2003, with Roy being around 12 years old, almost 13.

**Summer**

**2003**

It was most likely some bonding attempt on Oliver’s part, something Roy didn’t particularly feel like doing- he’d much rather laze around at the place he feels mostly comfortable taking a crap in then a old cabin in woods, but at least Dinah was coming too. She was insanely cool, how she was into Oliver was completely beyond Roy. 

And, well, it wasn’t that Roy didn’t like Oliver, the man was alright, nice, was trying his best. Just- Roy couldn’t quite place his discomfort. This whole rich lifestyle was something Roy knew he’d never get used to, but, well, maybe he could get used to Oliver. If he tried. Like the man was obviously doing. A cabin in New York really wasn’t what he thought Oliver would try though. It was so cliche and white. 

The minute they stepped inside, Dinah declared that they would all have to dust and make sure Oliver didn’t leave anything gross in the fridge- the last time he had been here was in 2000, apparently, when he decided on a whim to buy it. Before she could tell him to search the fridge, Roy grabbed a duster and went to look for furniture to clean.

The place was old, Roy can feel the past in it as he strolled through it, his hands skimming over the hard wooden walls as he searched for items to dust. Little etches of time could be found throughout- an engraved lions head in a doorway had a tooth chipped off, notches in another, like when people were telling the height of a child. It wasn’t very tall. It set Roy on edge- his body hummed, his hands twitched. He found himself staring at the doorway with the notches until Oliver gave a loud guffawing laugh from across the house.

Roy snapped out of it, going back to dust over what he could. He was gathering up a dusty comforter from a room, too lazy to fold it, instead bundling it up in his arms, when a loud crash sounded. Roy jumped, the comforter dropping from his arms. He blinked before calling, right as Dinah called out the exact words, “You drop something-” 

He stepped out into the hallway, glancing down to see Dinah at the end. Her lips were in a frown, her eyebrows raised. “Huh,” she mumbled as she stepped forward, “did you hit the table when you walked past Roy?” He stared at the long stretch of floor between them, a shattered blue and white vase on the wooden floor. “Roy?” 

“Uh- no. I- I don’t think so. Or, maybe I did, sorry Dinah.” He muttered, his eyes still transfixed on the broken shards of the vase. Dinah picked up what she could with a dustpan, the movement ending whatever odd awe he was in. 

“It’s okay, just a little thing. Looked ugly and old anyways.” She stood up, gave him a wide smile. “You fine Roy?” 

He didn’t know what it was, this peculiar emotion, something he couldn’t name, not fear, not- it was an intangible mess he couldn’t explain. He hadn’t known how to feel about this place on the plane ride and the drive, now he had no clue what he was even feeling. Swallowing, Roy gave Dinah a shaky smile. “I guess I’m kinda tired.” 

Dinah made a sympathetic noise. “Let’s just finished cleaning up, then you can nap all you want, kid. Oh, hey, Ollie’s gonna get some pizza from town, want me to relay any special orders?”

 

**Winter**

**1924**

“Did I grow a lot Papa? Did I grow?” Damian asked with a grin, his little chipped front tooth showing and socked feet bouncing. His older sister set her hands on his shoulders, the two of them staring at each other until Damian stopped bouncing. Bruce smiled at them, reaching over his son's head to mark the spot with a pencil. “No! Make it- make it like last time.”

“I will, I will Damian, but first I have to mark it so I know where to make the carving.” Bruce explained to his son, turning him around to see where the dark pencil mark was. “Once you get to bed I will put it on and by morning, I promise, it will be carved in.”

“Sleep time,” Cassandra signed before giving an exaggerated yawn and slumping forward until her head was on her little brothers shoulder. 

Bruce couldn’t help but grin at his children's antics. Somehow, but not completely surprising, Damian had convinced his sister to let him sleep in her bed. He had been climbing into his and Alfred’s for a while now, but with Alfred’s growing sickness, had began to turn to his sister more often. Bruce tucked in his children, since they both claimed he put the blankets on just right- “Alright my little Goldilocks,” Bruce replied, earning himself a giggle and a “My hairs black, Papa” from his son. 

After a few minutes, Bruce found his pocket knife in a drawer in his bedroom, and went to carve the line indicating his sons height in the doorway. He dug into the wood, dug deep into it, emotion digging into him, unwanted and unwarranted tears flooding into his eyes. “Fuck,” he whispered, dropping the knife onto the floor. He leaned his forehead against the doorway and let the tears fall. “Fuck.”

 

**Summer**

**2003**

“Dude that’s so gross.” Roy wrinkled his nose at Oliver, who shamelessly continued to eat his Hawaiian pizza, chewing with his mouth wide open. “So gross.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes, closing his mouth, thank every deity for that. “C’mon Roy, it’s good, I swear it is! And- and Dinah likes it too! You know Dinah has great taste, right?” He winked at Roy, which only made him snort into his Coca-Cola bottle. “Hey- I’m a huge catch, kid.”

“Eh.” Roy shrugged before giving Oliver a large grin, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t see his reaction to his next words, not sure how it would be taken. “You are an alright enough old man, though.” Maybe he would only take it as a joke, ignore how heavy Roy was making it sound, how he wanted Oliver to hear it, to hear the implied ‘dad.’ He knew this was supposed to make them closer, that Oliver had adopted him, but who said Oliver wanted him to think of him as a father figure and not just some weird eccentric fellow who adopted native kids for shits and giggles. What was he even thinking- Oliver was a good man, he wasn’t like that, why was Roy second guessing on this? 

He couldn’t help it. 

A beat of silence.

“Thanks.” Oliver’s voice sounded wet. Roy opened his eyes and watched as Oliver closed his own, rubbing at his mustache. “Dammit, I’m getting emotional, ha, sorry, sorry.” He wiped at his face and smiled at Roy- his cheeks and eyes were a stark red. 

Roy smiled back at him, his hands nervously picking at the crust of his own (actually edible) pizza. The rest of the afternoon they talked and joked, settled, even without the presence of Dinah, who had left the day before for a show she had booked at a nearby club for fun. They were watching O Brother Where Art Thou when the couch cushion next to Roy seemed to dip slightly. He turned his head, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before shaking his head and turning back to the movie. 

“Hey, can I get an ice cream sandwich?” Roy asked, nudging at Oliver’s thigh. 

The man nodded. “Yeah, kid. Mind grabbing one for me?” Roy hummed, standing up to go fetch them from the nearby freezer. He had them in his hands when he pivoted on his socked feet, about to walk back to the sofa, when his eye caught the back of a black haired head- curly hair, a pierced ear- before it flickered and was gone from sight. Roy fumbled with the ice cream, containing a gasp of shock, staring at the place he saw the… person. Right next to where he was, where the seat had dipped like someone had gone and sat there. 

Roy breathed in and out. What the fuck? What the hell? His stomach flipped, his body turned cold, his heart sped up in his chest, beating so hard he could hear it in his ears. 

 

**Winter**

**1924**

The little boy, Damian was his name, grabbed at Dick’s hand, dragging him along the hallway. Dick wasn’t sure what to do- no one had ever seen him before, though he tried to stay out of the business of the people who came by, so he wouldn’t cause any accidental occurrence or feel as though he was snooping. He had seen the little boy only once before, had seen his father for several years. Had seen his father grow up, actually, from a young boy to a man, strong and sturdy and loving. Dick thought he was a very good father, had grown up to be a wonderful man.

Damian looked very much like his father- though he had light green eyes and a dark complexion. His sister, Cassandra, looked much more like their father- fair skin, dark messy hair, a somewhat intense personality at times. Dick would sometimes find her staring at seemingly nothing at all, her gaze fixed and glazed over. He wondered what her mind was stuck on. 

“You- you will meet Alfred,” Damian whispered to him as he guided him to the large room down the hallway- the one that Dick had intended all those years ago for him and Cheyenne. He knew it was the room for the grandfather, an old British man who Dick liked to watch bustle about in the kitchen, baking cookies and pies that smelled absolutely divine, better than the sweets from the circus ever smelled- there was no real comparison between the two. 

Dick sighed. “Damian, little one, I don’t think that would be a good idea. Isn’t Alfred sick? Doesn’t your papa want you to let him rest?” He had heard Damian’s father- Bruce- repeat time after time to the young boy that their grandfather shouldn’t strain himself. 

One of the doors suddenly opened, Cassandra blinking owlishly at them before shaking her head, crouching down as she signed to her little brother. Dick let go of Damian’s hand, who looked up, past Dick’s shoulder to ask in a low whisper, “Mr. Grayson? Where’d you go?”

 

**Summer**

**2003**

Dinah absentmindedly drew small figures on Roy’s arms with the Henna she had gotten from a friend of hers, who happened to be in New York due to some restored painting that Roy thought didn’t look so nice, but was apparently an old European gem. Roy watched as Dinah drew little eyes over his dark arms as she hummed under her breath. The eyes made him think of the- person or figment of his imagination he had saw the other day. He hadn’t told Oliver, but it had kept him up all night, every time he closed his own eyes made him see curly hair, the shining earring. 

“Boop.” 

Roy blinked rapidly, his eyes immediately crossing to look at the finger Dinah had pressed against his nose. Without much thought, he reached out his tongue and licked at it, making her squeal and pull away from him quickly. “Oh- sorry.” He chuckled, carefully wiping at his mouth. “I kind of zoned out.” 

“I noticed.” Dinah wiped her finger on Roy’s shirt before resuming to draw with the Henna, this time up on his bicep. “This about you basically calling Ollie your dad?” A strand of blonde hair fell from its place behind her ear. 

It wasn’t. He hadn’t really thought about it too much, in all honesty, not when all he could think about was- was some kind of ghost living in their cabin. Roy shook his head. “Not really. It’s about time, you know? And he really is trying his best- like, Dinah, he pulled a typical white dad and dragged us across the country to bond. That’s nice. It’s nice. I’m having a nice time.” 

“Hmm.” Dinah hummed, pulling her hand away from his arm. “I’m glad you’re comfortable Roy. Hey, wanna put some of this stuff on me once yours dries?” 

“Sure.” Roy smiled at her. “This stuff is really cool, I’ll have to tell Ms Prince thank you next to I see her at one of those galas.” They continued to talk for a while longer as they waited for the Henna to dry a bit more before Roy began to map out a design on her hands. At one point, Dinah threw her head back in laughter at something Roy had said, Roy turning slightly, his gaze falling towards the doorway. 

A dark head peaked out from the doorway, black hair in a mess, pale hands gripping at it the edge of the doorway as eyes stared at them, a pale yellow nightgown and lacey white socks on her feet. Her gaze moved to meet Roy’s before jumping back into the hallway, a distinct sound of something hitting, thumping hard, against the table there made both Roy and Dinah jump. 

“Shit.” Roy mumbled, the Henna smeared against Dinah’s skin. She stared down the hallway, calling out, “Ollie” before going to look at the table. Roy stayed rooted in his spot, watching as Dinah fixed the crooked table, staring at it before simply shaking her head, muttering to herself. 

 


	2. Roy Harper 2004

**Winter**

**1925**

Dick curled himself up in Alfred’s lap, the man’s hand soothing his shoulder. Dick watched as Cassandra wrapped herself up in a long cardigan, wiping her red tear-stained face with the too long sleeves. Bruce walked into the room, Damian in his arms, his son openly crying, soft whimpers escaping his mouth, so sad and hurt that Alfred tensed. “Oh my poor boy,” he muttered, his hand pressing harder against Dick’s back. 

“It’ll get better.” Dick whispered, adjusting himself so that he faced the man. He grabbed Alfred’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “Time will heal.”

For the first time in years, Dick was not as alone as he thought he would always be, Alfred was now like him, to live forever in this house and watch as the days, the months, the years pass by. A mix of feelings was rushing through him- he was happy to not be so alone anymore, but it was horrible to watch Alfred want to comfort his grieving family. It was something Dick had not experienced, watching another person grieve his passing. 

“Why am I- how are we still here?” Alfred asked, his lips trembling. 

That was the question Dick found himself circling back to time and time again. “Only Allah knows that.”

 

**Summer**

**2004**

“How long are we staying this time?” Roy asked with a yawn, his head falling against the cold car window, watching as they neared the cabin, the old house he hadn’t seen or really thought about except in passing for the last year. The closer they got to the house, the old panic began to set into his chest as he recalled those moments. He remembered once explaining them to Oliver, who had only laughed it off and asked if Roy really believed in ghosts. 

The thing was- Roy did. In some form, he did believe in ghosts. Whenever his friends from school went and brought out an ouija board, Roy found an excuse to leave and not come back. Even though his friends made fun of his obvious fear, he didn’t really care, he just didn’t want to get fucked up if something happened. And, well, he was raised by a traditional Navajo man who taught him about the chindi, all the anger and hate and bad in a person, that were released with death and would stay inside homes. Roy hadn’t quite thought of it in his shock during his first stay at the house, but, well, maybe he had thought about that house more than he wanted to admit to anyone- even himself. 

Oliver hummed from the front seat, lowering the radio down a bit. “Only two weeks, then we gotta get back to Star. Lots of stuff is happening at the company that need my attention.” He made a face and rubbed at his growing beard. 

“Oh? You actually working?” Roy grinned cheekily, picking up his head to look properly at his adopted father. 

“Ha ha, shut up, kid. I work. I work hard. I go, work, then get home to see your annoying little ass.” Oliver said, no real bite in his tone as he stuck his tongue out at Roy as he attempted to park straight in front of the cabin. “Oh thank God Dinah isn’t coming for a few days, I just know she’d be using That Voice to get us to work quick.” 

“Thank the gods.” Roy muttered under his breath as he flung open the car door, stepping out to stretch out his arms. They gathered up their bags, loudly talking to each other as they strolled into the house, where it was surprisingly not too dusty, but they got to cleaning up and washing the sheets anyways.

The house was quiet, peaceful, as they easily talked to one another from across the house as they worked. A little after they finished, Oliver called up Dinah, who praised them both when they declared the house to have a cleanliness she would be proud of. It was nice. So nice that Roy nearly forgot about the ghosts that had set worry in his chest. Nearly. The thought of them, the memory, kept itself in the back of his mind, popping out as he said a joke, ate his lunch, idly laid in bed. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled as he lay awake in his room, the house dark and silent. Roy was long past the days of sleeping with a night light, but a part of him desperately wished he had one with him. Instead of worrying himself further, Roy sat up in bed, turned on the bedside lamp, illuminating the whole room in a yellowish quality. He dug through one of his bags, pulling out his game boy. 

 

**Winter**

**1925**

Cassandra wasn’t quite sure if Mr. Grayson was real. She had seen him around their home- once with Damian, who had scowled at her for scaring him off, once leaning against the armchair in the small room Bruce used as a library, the sun filtering through the window and hitting him, but also seeming to go through him. She was fascinated by him- he seemed to be a pure, wandering soul. But perhaps it was only her mind, the world about them always said she was an odd one, a little crazy after the childhood she had experienced. 

But her little brother had seen him and there was nothing about him that was crazy. He himself was also a pure soul, filled to the brim with goodness and a life of greatness beyond him. Perhaps Mr. Grayson was real. 

How horrible, he must feel so alone. Unless…

A rush of warmth filled Cassandra’s chest as she suddenly sat up, blinking around the room. She rushed over to where her sketchbook lay on top of her dresser, gathered it and a collection of pencils into her hands before settling back on her bed, feet under the warm covers as she drew and wrote in her messy, crooked handwriting. As she finished up, she glanced over at the her open doorway, where Damian stood, red eyed and wearing one of Alfred’s much too large white shirts. 

“Damian, come.” Cassandra pat the hard floor next to her, giving Damian a small smile as he toddled his way over, biting at the end of Alfred’s shirt. Her sat down next to her, nuzzling his face in her side. Cassandra sighed, petting at his dark hair. She felt him mumble something, but it was much too quiet for her bad hearing to pick up. She tapped at his shoulder until her looked up so she could sign, “You know I cannot hear Dami.”

Her brother flushed before beginning to clumsily sign out, “Sorry. I miss Alfie.” Tears welled up in his eyes. 

Cassandra breathed out her nose. She cupped his little cheek, caressing it for a minute before pulling away, Damian pouting at the lost touch. “I drew Alfred a picture. I do not know if he will see, only hope. Want to draw Alfred a picture?” She briefly showed him what she had drew. 

As Damian nodded, Cassandra tore out the page she had used and handed him the sketchbook. He clumsily held the pencil in his hand as he drew, the pencil looking ridiculously large in his small hand. She smiled at him, pressed a kiss to his head, and stood up to place the paper in the kitchen. Hopefully, somehow, Alfred was like Mr. Grayson, still roaming about and able to see what she made for him. 

 

**Summer**

**2004**

As the days passed, Roy would find little items tucked into the kitchen. He hadn’t been deliberately searching at first, but had found a folded up paper wedged into the spot between the counter and the fridge, which had ignited his curiosity. The paper was yellowed with age and had faded figures drawn onto it. A man with a thick mustache, a young boy with chubby cheeks and little dimples, a man with what looked like a long scar that ran through his eyebrow, an intricate sketch of a cake. It was fascinating- Roy wondered who had drawn it. 

His mind automatically went to that girl he had once saw last year- messy black hair, yellow dress, white fingers clutching at the doorway as she watched him and Dinah. It was so soft and full of a meaning Roy could never know. After he had found it, he put it back, but he did look around for anymore drawings, notes, that were hidden. Each time he found something, he put it right back where he found it. Sometimes, he would softly mutter into the air about how lovely they were, wondering if she was around and could hear. 

Maybe Roy was being crazy. But, well, this didn’t seem like something someone else had left around and this was definitely not made by a chindi. There was love poured into the drawings, even someone like Roy, who knew jack shit about art, could feel it in the soft lines. 

The pages were all old and yellowed, so, one day when he went with Dinah into town, Roy bought himself a college-ruled notebook as well as a sketchbook, more on an impulse then anything. Maybe, well. She could use more paper to draw with, right? Crap, maybe he was going crazy, maybe he had dreamed up that girl, why would a ghost even want a sketchbook? And Roy had not seen a thing regarding the ghosts this whole stay, besides the drawings, and those didn’t quite count did they? They could be anything, really. 

He still bought the sketchbook though. It was something he knew he would like, if he was a ghost in a house, stuck for who knows how long. 

Despite how much the prospect scared him, how long it took for him to actually fall asleep at night, when he got back to the house, Roy placed the sketchbook into a drawer in the kitchen, with a note tucked into the front:

_ create more love _

 

**Summer**

**2004**

“What’s this?” Dick asked Cassandra as he sprawled out onto the sofa across from where she sat, signing as he spoke. His little sister clutched a pencil in her right hand, a notebook propped up on her knees. Her dark eyebrows were scrunched together as she stared at the page, only the light of the moon filtering through the window letting her see the page, letting him properly see her face, however dark lit.

Cassandra raised her head and gave him a smile- wide and happy. All the air seemed to push out of Dick’s body, which, honestly, was impossible seeing as he was long dead and a ghost, however that was how it felt. Seeing her smile. It was something she hadn’t truly done in years, maybe once or twice since her own death. “Roy bought me a sketchbook.” She held up the book, then passed him a small lined piece of paper with three words written in messy, cramped handwriting. 

Dick knew who Roy was- the boy. This was his second time here at their house. Unlike his siblings, Dick didn’t care to watch him and his parents move about the house, instead trying to stay out of potential sight from him. That didn’t mean he hadn’t passed by the kid in the hall from time to time or accidently strolled into the room he stayed in- Cassie’s old room- late at night to see him still awake. 

“That’s- wow. Nice of Roy.” Dick smiled back at his sister, who went back to staring, smiling, at the paper from the boy. After a few minutes, Dick made his way next to his little sister to watch as she drew what she loved into the first page.

 

**Summer**

**2004**

A sudden sound, a shuffle, a loud pop of vaguely familiar music, made Roy’s eyes open in the middle of the night. As he was about to shut his eyes again, fall back to sleep, ignore whatever that was- probably only Oliver and Dinah or a much too loud lucid dream that shocked him awake- when his eyes caught a faint light in the corner. After a week, Roy had stopped sleeping with the light on, had stopped feeling so fearful of the possible ghost situations since, well, he was still breathing and all. 

It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust, but there it- he- was. A body in cuffed jeans and bulky sneakers, dark head hunched down over Roy’s game boy, the light reflecting off an earring. Roy’s breaths quickened, but the boy didn’t seem to notice, instead continuing to play the game. As Roy watched him, his eyes began to flutter shut, sleep pulling him back in, all the last time from the previous week catching up to him. 

When he woke up in the morning, his eyes immediately fell to the corner where he had saw the boy. Nothing was there. Roy breathed out of relief, sitting up. After a few seconds, he reached over to where he usually left his game boy, only to slap against the hard wood of the nightstand. “Fuck,” he muttered, blinking at his tingling hand. “Where the fuck…” It took him about half the day of searching to finally find his game boy, tucked into an armchair in the reading room Dinah liked to spend time in. Roy turned the device in his hands, staring at it, before groaning out, “Asshole.” He shook his head as he stuck the game back in the chair for the guy. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really hope this turned out well??? I really enjoyed writing the whole Cassandra parts and seeing how Roy is going from "oh fuck" to "eh guess this is happening huh?" Thanks so much to everyone reading <3


	3. Roy Harper 2005

**Fall**

**2005**

Roy held his and Wally’s bags as he strolled into the house, back towards his usual room where they were going to be sharing for the week off. Wally talked, fast and a little jumbled, his lisp particularly showing through with his excitement at spending Thanksgiving break somewhere other than his home. It had been a pain in Roy’s ass fighting to get his friend to come as well- being the only ‘child’ would be annoying what with having all of Ollie and Dinah’s friends there- but his parents had relented, finally. 

“This place is really nice- better than our house, but I guess you guys  _ are _ rich.” Wally was saying as he bounded into the room, curiously looking around. 

“Eh, it’s alright.” Roy mumbled as he set their bags onto the floor. He could hear the adults talking loudly from the living room, Dinah giggling in her high-pitched, ear splitting way that reminded Roy that she screamed into a microphone for a living. Roy got into the routine of gathering all the sheets to wash, with Wally’s help, as the adults chose to instead talk and laugh, as though they hadn’t been doing so already. “You think they’ll force a kid table on us on thursday?” Roy asked with a scowl as he dug out some Swiffer dust wipes from one of the bathrooms. 

His friend hummed in thought, rocking back on his heels. “I will kill Uncle Hal if I have to sit at a little pop up table.” Wally scratched at his chin, his smile a little silly, wide and cute. He had dimples in his cheeks and his freckles scrunched up at his nose. Suddenly, his head tilted to the side and his smile widened into a grin. “Hey, dude, I think I just heard Uncle Barry say he’s gonna go buy pizza.” 

“Oh? Hell yeah.” Roy stood up, the two of them walking back over to the living room, where Barry had the van keys in his hand his face growing increasingly annoyed with each passing second as Oliver and Hal argued over what to order. “Hey can we go with you Barry? We already put all the sheets and shi- stuff to wash.” He pointed towards the back. 

Barry grinned at him, his hand coming to pat his back. “Sure thing Roy, once Hal and Ollie finally decide on what they want, we’ll be off!” 

It took Roy five minutes before he groaned out, “Just get a cowboy, a meat lovers, and a thin crust something with the good white sauce.” His adoptive father gave him a measured look before nodding in agreement. 

Despite his asking, Barry wouldn’t let Roy behind the wheel, claiming that “Just because you’re fifteen now does not mean you get to drive.” Which, understandable, but Roy really wanted to try his hand at driving. Instead, he sat in the back with Wally, which, well, wasn’t a bad thing whatsoever. 

The wait for the pizza was going to be a bit, so Roy excused himself to go to the little art shop next door. It was a nice place- the owner in the front, a white and gray cat that came and affectionately rubbed against his legs as he strolled around. Without much thought, Roy bought a sketchbook along with a large packet of pens and colored markers. It had been a little tickle in the back of his mind when they had arrived at the house- did she need, or want, more to draw with? It’s been more than a year, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was finished with the first book. So, he bought the materials, then met back up with Wally and Barry. 

When they got back to the house, Roy placed what he had bought in the drawer in the kitchen. Iris watched him curiously. “I didn’t know you draw Roy?” she said with a smile, leaning against the table as she waited for the others to grab a slice of pizza. 

“I don’t.” He answered, tugging a strand of hair behind his ear. His face felt warm.  

“Then what’s with the art supplies?” Iris asked, her head tilted to the side, her long nails drumming on the table. 

Roy walked over to grab a slice of pizza. “If you’re lucky, you’ll see.” He stuffed the piece in his mouth before going to sit next to Wally. 

When they finished stuffing their faces, they went back to the room, Roy curling up at Wally’s side as he watched him play Pokemon on his DS. They talked quietly, close, Wally’s breath warm at the top of Roy’s head. A part of Roy wanted to reach up, press his lips to his friends nose, kiss at his freckles, giggle and smile, and be, but, well, he knew that would never happen. Instead he smiled and laughed and if he cuddled a little closer, well, it was a little chilly this time of year. 

 

**Spring**

**1995**

His cheek lay in semi-wet dirt, not too wet to become mud, but soft and pliable from the early morning drizzle. Dick picked at a rock, sticking his finger absently into the dirt. He had always loved spring, the air was nice and fresh, the flowers pretty, the people in whichever city he was in cheerful and smiling, families and lovers and children and friends. There was an emotion that ran through spring, a newness, a rebirth of sorts as the wind began to warm up and the daze of winter. With each passing year, he took the time to try and appreciate how constant spring felt, even if he couldn’t see what he most associated with this time.

Dick raised his finger from the dirt. Even after all these years of being dead, it was still a bit of a shock, seeing how he never aged, never became dirty. Time just passed, came and went with the wind, barely noticed unless people, in fascinating clothes and strange ways of speaking, came through. 

A part of him, wicked and lonely, was glad he wasn’t so alone anymore to experience this all- there were nine of them now, stuck in the house, roaming about. It wasn’t too bad. Sadness still lingered, but it softened with time, slightly. Jason and Stephanie were still very angry and spiteful and Cassandra and Damian were prone to fall into bouts of sorrow. It wasn’t so bad, though. It was alright. It was okay. 

Dick raked his fingers through the dirt again. His eyes caught a flicker, he watched as Cassandra followed Stephanie through the large yard, watching her with her hands behind her back, yellow nightgown floating back with the slight wind. Stephanie stopped walking, her blonde hair falling over her face. She stuck out her dark hand. Cassandra only stared at it, hesitant and unsure, before gently grasping it into her own, her right arm wrapping around the arm of the hand she held, leaning into Stephanie. They continued to walk. 

Ah, Dick thought. That was it, wasn’t it. “Well, fuck.” He muttered, turning back to look at the dirt beneath his fingers. He breathed in the scent of the earth, wishing, once again, that death was to be buried deep under it all, and not this continuous, deprived sense of life. 

 

**Fall**

**2005**

Roy woke up with the start. He sat up, glancing around the whole room, but nothing was out of place and no one seemed to be around, except for Wally, who was sleeping soundly next to him in the bed. Roy rubbed at his eyes, a part of him wanted to get up and smoke a cigarette, but he hadn’t brought a pack out of a slight fear that one of the adults would find it and scold him or Wally would find out about it. And, he really didn’t want the guy, one of his actual close friends and, if he was being honest with himself, crush, to know he did shit like that. He debated searching around to see if Hal had left a pack lying about, but he didn’t want to risk it.

Instead, he got up to get a cup a water. He padded his way over to the kitchen, but stopped short in the doorway. There, crouched in front of the sink as they looked inside a cabinet, was a man. Roy’s heart leapt up his throat, causing him to clutch at it as he was transfixed, still, hoping that he wasn’t seen or heard. The man was broad-shouldered and wearing dark pajamas. It took Roy a few more seconds before it clicked. 

“What the fuck, man. You hella scared the crap out of me, shit.” Roy whispered as he walked towards the sink. He grabbed a glass and filled it up with tap water. 

The man whispered back, “Sorry. I- have- I’m looking for my son. Have you seen him?”

Roy shook his head after he down the water, placing the glass in the sink. He looked down at the man, who was closing up the cabinet, his hand raising up to rub at his temple. Roy briefly wondered if ghosts could feel or if it was just a habit even death could not stop. “No, I haven’t. I can help you look around, if you’d like?” 

“That would be appreciated.” The man stood up. Despite his considerable height, he seemed small as he leaned a little into himself, walking a little ways around. Together, they searched the house, looking into small spaces. Sometimes the man would whisper around, Roy guessing to another ghost that was around but had not put itself into a position for him to see them. After a while, Roy turned to the man. “I’m sorry, but I can barely keep my eyes open. I think Imma go back to sleep. That alright, man?” 

The man nodded his head. “Yes, go right ahead. You are still alive and all. Thank you for all of your help.” Roy was about to walk away when he said, “You’re Roy, right? You gave my daughter Cassandra her gifts. I feel that I should thank you for those as well. She loves them, they make her happier then I have seen her in quite a long time.” 

Roy’s tired mind packed away the name- Cassandra- as he said through a yawn, “It’s literally no problem. Everyone deserves a little something, even ghosts like you guys, right? Well, uh, good luck and good night. Hope you find your son soon.” He received a small smile and a brisk nod in return. 

As he climbed back into bed, bleary-eyed and mildly wondering about the afterlives of these ghosts- how many were here anyways? He was definitely not looking for the kid who had stolen his game boy, and he had talked to at least four other ghosts when they were searching. Not wanting to think too much about it while he was falling asleep, Roy tried to shake it out of his mind, instead glancing over at the back of Wally’s head. Small little black curls were at the base of his neck. 

He was nearly asleep, content, when something grabbed at his feet through the blanket. Roy’s eyes widened and he just barely bit back a scream as he sat up and glared at the foot of the bed to see a little kid curled up there, one of the blanket’s bundled over the kid. Roy sighed through his nose and shook his head.

“Kid,” he whispered, suddenly wondering what the hell his young life was turning into whenever he stayed in this house, “your dad’s been looking for you.”

“Sorry.” The kid whispered back, in what sounded more like a whimper than anything. “Can I- can I please stay here?” 

Roy rubbed in between his eyes, his hand pinching down his nose until he let it fall into his lap. “Sure, sure, stay. But Imma go tell your dad, alright? Come morning, please go back to him, I don’t want him worrying too bad, okay?” The kid nodded his head in agreement before curling back up at the foot of the bed, hiding beneath the blanket. With a small groan, Roy went to go find the kid’s father. 

He found him inside the reading room with the kid who stole his game boy. The kid grinned when he saw Roy. He leaned up against the arm of the chair he was sitting on, his curly hair falling a bit into his eyes. “Hey there, stud.” The guy- the actually kind of cute guy now that he looked at him while he wasn't in the pale light of a game boy- winked at Roy. 

Roy grinned back at him before all of his senses rushed back to him and he turned towards the man. “So, uh, turns out your kid is in my bed. I said he could stay until morning, that cool man?” Once the man gave a nod, gratitude dripping in his voice as he said his thanks for being so generous, Roy gave both ghosts a nod as he left, finally, finally, getting to the sleep he deprived himself of. When the kid crawled up next to him and latched his arms around Roy’s middle, he pretended to be asleep, but let his arms wrap around him, hoping the kid could feel the warmth. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really feel like more of Roy came through this chapter, his sense of personality, his life, and, well, imma chalk that up to both wally being around, causing him to be a bit more open, and how, like, when you're fifteen and finding a sense of who you are and how comfortable you are with certain stuff you know? maybe that makes more sense in my rambling mind lol
> 
> I had Roy have a tiny bit of a crush on Wally, because I just thought it'd be cute??? also I realized that roy is from California, which I knew, but that realization got me to "I can have him use like, hella in a sentence" because my Californian ass loves doing that!! anyways, drop a kudos, a comment, subscribe, all that nice stuff!!!!


	4. Roy Harper 2007

**Summer**

**2007**

Smoke wafted through the air, curling and dissipating the further away it went. Roy took another slow drag.

The day had started off alright enough, as much as the strained _everything_ between him and Ollie could possibly be. And, as much as Ollie liked to say it, Roy wasn’t trying to be an ungrateful little asshole all the time. He loved Oliver so damn much, he loved and appreciated everything he’s done for him, he just couldn’t help that Oliver happened to be an asshole who didn’t understand shit. But, well, the day started off fine enough. Little jabs thrown back here and there, microscopic enough that they didn’t quite notice the way the words grated against one another. Then, by the end, the little glass they were standing atop of cracked. Roy, admittedly, felt kinda bad for Connor, having such a fuck up for an adoptive older brother around, that he had to deal with all this new shit on top of integrating himself with the family.

Roy watched as the cigarette smoke drifted about, dancing. He wasn’t a poetic guy, but shit was that kind of beautiful, in a way.

“Yo, mind letting me have a smoke?” A vaguely familiar voice whispered from Roy’s side. He cocked his head back against the house, eyeing the kid- dark skin, curly hair, a dull yellow t-shirt tucked into what Roy wasn’t sure were deliberately ripped jeans. Game boy kid. The kid who had called him cute, or a stud or something along those lines. God, what year was this kid from?

“They’re bad for your health, you know?” The joke fell off his lips without him meaning to as he tossed the kid his pack of cigarettes. It was dumb, not even funny, but that’s what escaped his dumb mouth.

The kid pulled one out and stuck it between his lips. “Oh yeah? Had not a clue. Guess I’ll die, huh?” He leaned forward to reach the lighter Roy had pulled out, taking a long inhale before letting the smoke escape his lungs. Roy watched as the kid blinked and shook his head, giving a self deprecating laugh. “Well, fuck.”

“That sucks man,” Roy muttered, turning his head away, letting the guy have his moment. He was dead, for who knows how long, and couldn’t have this vice. At least he still had Roy’s game boy for his afterlife adventures. “Name’s Roy Harper by the way. Nice to actually meet you.”

“Jason Todd.” The kid murmured around his cigarette. They stood there for a while longer, looking out at the yard, the surrounding trees, the dark blue car Ollie was renting this time around, the quiet sounds of crickets singing into the night and chirping of bats. When Roy fished for another cigarette, he met Jason’s dark eyes, grabbing another for him as well.

 

“Imma borrow the car for a bit.” Roy said as he plopped bread into the toaster, watching as Ollie set a plate of eggs and bacon in front of Connor, who wa grinning widely, his little socked feet kicking above the floor. They were the little Pokemon socks Roy bought him for Christmas. “Just for a bit, I just wanna get some shit from town, you know?”

Oliver snorted. It made Roy immediately tense up, want to defend himself by yelling and pushing further into the cracks of their relationship. He knew what Ollie was thinking- he would go into town to smoke, maybe get weed or whatever the hell Ollie thought Roy did most times. And, well, maybe if this was home… maybe that would be the case, but this was the cabin. This was for Cassandra and that man and his son, and Jason Todd.

He breathed in, ready to say something along the lines of ‘fuck you,’ when his toast popped out of the toaster, so loud Roy jumped and bumped his elbow hard against the counter. “Ah- fuuuck.” Roy rubbed at his elbow, shaking his head.

“You okay kid?” Ollie asked, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor as he strolled over. He smelled like grease and that cologne he wore that Roy thought smelled too much like the stereotypical _man_ with some stupid ass woods name. “Here, you sit down, let me serve you, okay? After you eat you can go into town.” His gray-blue eyes bore into Roy’s own. “Okay?”

“Thanks Ollie.” Roy muttered, going to sit next to Connor. “Hey, how was your sleep?” He asked as he reached over and pushed the kids hair out of his face. The eight year old grinned shyly and began to recite what ridiculousness he remembered from his dream, Roy listening intently and asking questions with each twist and turn.

 

Roy slipped a few books in with the newest sketchbook. As they were going in for the night, Jason had offhandedly mentioned he had read all the books in the reading room. Figuring that his money would go into something that was going to slowly kill him anyways, Roy bought some books for the kid.

 

**Summer**

**2007**

When he was alive, Jason liked to buy books, new books that hadn’t been cracked open by another soul (or that’s what he liked to think), bring them to his nose as he flipped through the pages, the scent of new book, new paper, filling his nose. He had never gotten a lot of new books, but it was something he loved to do.

He did it now, something he never thought he’d do again in the what (he guessed were the) twenty years he’d been dead. Jason smelled the new book. The book in his hands was The Hobbit- he had read it once, in the sixth grade maybe? He remembered having the strong feeling that Kili was cute- he loved that dwarf.

At his side, Cassandra was sketching his profile inside on of her sketchbooks, humming a tune he didn’t quite recognize. It might have been something from Roy’s mother, the blonde woman- Dinah- liked to sing quite a bit. She did have a nice voice, sometimes Jason and Steph liked to lie back and listen as she sang, her large voice ringing through the house.

Dick strolled inside the room, holding Damian close to his chest. “Hey. Roy again?” He tipped his head towards what the were holding, adjusting his hold so he could one handedly sign, despite the fact that Cassandra was paying him no mind, continuing to determinedly draw.

“Yeah, Roy again. He, uh, he brought The Hobbit, which I now realize you don’t know. Here, come look. He got five books.” Jason pat the small sliver of the sofa cushion next to him. Dick carefully sat next to him, his right leg hanging off the sofas arm, Damian’s little hands grabbing one of the books to show to Dick.

“The Outsiders?” Dick read the title.

“That book is really fucking good, really kinda timeless. They made a movie a few years before my death, actually. I went and watched it with Steph. It’s good. Sad. I think you might like it?” Jason remembered the characters, how much he loved them, felt for them. He had always felt connected with Ponyboy- now, thinking about it, he felt more like Johnny. He closed his eyes and breathed out (and wasn’t that so fucking useless, how they still _breathed_ , like that was something they even had to do anymore, they were fucking dead, he was murdered, yet here he sat in the same house, fucking breathing while dead).

 

**Summer**

**2007**

It was familiar, sort of, this conversation. Roy knew that it was coming, what with the tentative way Dinah walked into the room, how her voice came out particularly sweet and high pitched, buttering him up, how her hands went and pushed back his hair from his face. It made Roy feel as though he was about to combust.

“Can you stop this Dinah? Please?” Roy rubbed his hands over his face. He itched for a smoke, anything to not go through her emotionally draining conversations. “I’m tired of all this bullshit.”

“Roy, your dad- Oliver. Oliver is just worried about you. I know what now is a difficult time for you. With Connor coming to live with us and-”

“You know that none of this is about Connor! You know that! All of this shit started because of- because he-” Roy’s lip trembled and his throat tightened. Fuck, he couldn’t even say it, he couldn’t push himself into what he had been trying to ignore, what he didn’t want to bring up with Ollie or Dinah.

Dinah pressed her rough hands to his cheeks, bringing her forehead to his own. “Roy, sweetie. Ollie doesn’t care about that time he caught you and Wally kissing, he doesn’t. He cares in a way that this is your life and you’re his son, but not in what you are thinking. No, no, that doesn’t matter. What has him so angry and frustrated is the cigarettes and the weed and the partying and the sneaking out and the alcohol. That’s what this is about, nothing about Wally or whoever the hell you want to go kiss or date. Roy, we can’t do shit, but please, please, talk to one of us. Please.”

A soft sob escaped his mouth, his head falling down to chest against her shoulder, his fingers reaching up to clutch at the soft fabric of her t-shirt. He was talking, blubbering out nonsense words that he wasn’t even sure of what they were. It was all he could bring himself to say.

 

The outside air was cool against Roy’s bare arms. He leaned against the porch railing, his eyes glued up at the sky where the moon hung up in a perfect bright sphere and small bats flew in the air, chirping and calling and speeding around. Two bodies came up on either sides of him- he saw a flash of blonde hair. Fully prepared for something even more emotionally draining talks.

Instead, he saw a girl, maybe a year younger than him. She gave him a little smile. “Hiya. I’m Steph. You looked kinda lonely, me and Jay thought you’d like some company. We can talk or just shut up, whatever you want.” Steph tucked her bright windbreaker closer to her, as though she was cold.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“Cause your fucking nice you dipshit.” Jason answered from over his shoulder. “You got some more smokes?” Roy handed him one before turning to glance back out at the moon and the small creatures of the night.

“You know, I always thought bats were kind of gross. Like, um, I always thought of them as being vampire bats because of this totally asshole kid from my neighborhood who said that’s how bats all were. But, being here, we see so much of them. They’re so good and adorable. Oh my God, Jason, tell Roy the story your abuela used to tell, the one about the bat and the cigarette! It’s really funny, kind of sad, but funny! Mostly funny, really.” Steph talked fast. She kind of reminded him about Wally, just a little, with all that talking.  

They didn’t say a word when he burst into tears, cold running down his cheeks. They both placed their cold hands on his back, Jason talking softly into the night.

“My abuela and her sisters caught this bat in their house once, right? They heard these stories that if you give a bat a cigarette, that it would smoke it. So, they gave this little bat a cigarette to smoke to see if it would really do it. So my abuela goes and puts a lighter to the cigarette and shoves it in its mouth and the poor things chokes. Not much of a story, sorry.” Jason’s hand rubbed against his shoulder in small circles.

Roy let out a small giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Yeah.” 

 

**Winter**

**1925**

Cassandra pressed a kiss to her little brother’s forehead. His little face was red and tearstained, little whimpers escaping his lips that Cassandra could only just make out. He had woke up with yet another nightmare, something that was becoming too much of an occurrence since Alfred’s death. She cradled him in her arms, letting him cry into her nightgown.

When he began to calm down, Cassandra carefully carried him in her arms and padded her way over to their fathers room. She knocked before slowly opening the door. Their father was sitting up in bed, reading a book.

“Nightmare?” He signed. When Cass nodded, Bruce moved over, letting her climb into the bed and set Damian in between them. They settled down, Cassandra wrapping herself around her little brother, feeling a little like a cat. She pressed her head against her father, who pressed a kiss on the top of her head.

 

That was the last good night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof things are gonna pick up from here! Real excited for all that :') I had a lot of fun with this chapter because we are getting close to the good stuff! 
> 
> Things I couldn't quite fit in- we skipped a summer because Ollie and Dinah officially got married during the time they usually went out to the house, it was around that time that Ollie caught Roy and Wally making out, which kind of got Roy in a downward spiral and has made things tense between him and Ollie. Didn't quite help that Ollie started more time with the son he hadn't even known he had and, even if Roy won't admit to it bc he likes the kid, it makes him insecure on his relationship with Oliver. Roy is 16 years old in this chapter and I believe I put in there that Connor is 8!
> 
> Well!! Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Oh, wait, yeah, that thing about the bat and the cigarette is actually something my grandma did with her sisters when they were kids and it just kind of popped into my head while writing and I plopped it in there!


	5. Dick Grayson 2009

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood, death, and drugs tw for this chapter

**Winter**

**2009**

It was so fucking cold- his bones were chilled and his soul felt as though it would leave him and any given moment. The wet snow on the ground seeped into his thin tattered Vans. Roy leaned into the car, snatching the red duffle bag from the passenger seat. He clutched it close to his arms, as though it could heat him up. 

What was he even doing back here? 

The house was silent and dark. Unassuming. For a second, Roy wondered if he had only ever just imagined it all, that his whole life was only a huge fucked up hallucination. He licked his dry lips. The biting wind nipped at his nose. God, Ollie would freak the fuck out if he found out Roy was crashing here, in one of his houses, after everything. 

Roy trudged through the snow up towards the house, singing under his breath, “Chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose..” 

**Winter**

**2009**

Dick had become accustomed to it- death. He had watched as people slowly passed away after months of illness. He watched others struggle and fight, screaming gutturally, desperate to keep on living. Dick had seen people die horrible, tragic deaths. His own had been quick, quiet, sharp. A candle being blown out with one swift movement. 

When Roy Harper, a young man, who looked worse for wear, his hair bunched up at the top of his head, his eyes bruised and dark and tired, walked into the house, Dick knew. It was the face of a man who was done with the entire world, who was one step away from falling. One step away from snapping. 

His eyes followed Roy as he dropped down on the couch, mumbling under his breath what sounded like a tune to a song. There was no way Dick was going to let another person die in this house. 

**Winter**

**1925**

Bruce was being shaken awake. His eyes opened, a little groggy, his mind still a little off in whatever his dream had been. “What’s wrong Cassie swee-” Bruce’s eyes widened and he sat up, his hand reaching out towards the man hovering off to the side. 

Tears were streaming down his face, but his voice was steady as he spoke, “Someone broke in. Hurry.” Bruce didn’t have to hear anymore, didn’t even care who the hell that man was, before he was out of bed, running towards Cassandra’s room. It had to be David, it could only be David, but how did he find them? This was supposed to be safe, they were supposed to be safe here! 

Blood seeped through their skin, covering their clothes. The soft yellow of Cassandra’s nightgown was slowly becoming dark with red. Damian’s small body had ceased breathing before Bruce could even gather him close. Bruce could hear wailing, a distinct weep that only occurred to him much later that it was his own voice, his own call, his own sorrows. 

Cassandra was still blinking, her hand raising up to cup at Bruce’s cheek. Thin red blood poured from her open wounds. Her hand fell to rest on top of her brothers head. She mouthed, “It’s okay daddy,” her lips trying their hardest to stay in a small upturned, reassuring smile. Her fingers pet at Damian’s head. 

He held his children close, close to his chest and his slow beating heart. He felt as his daughter’s breathing began to decline and watched as she closed her eyes for the last time. “No,” was all he could say as he clutched her closer to his chest, rocking them both in his arms, back and forth, humming and crying and kissing their foreheads until he could no longer go on himself.

**Summer**

**1986**

Blood dripped from Jason’s mouth, flowing down his chin, dripping into his lap. Next to him, Stephanie was breathing was shallow, half of her face unrecognizable from the girl he had grown up with. Duke’s fingers were twitching, but he still hadn’t woken up. The van stopped abruptly. He dropped his chin down, watched how his blood slowly eased its way down, down, down. 

People always said he would die young, what with his smart mouth, the way he would instigate shit from time to time, and his blatant unrepentant hate for the police. But this? Fuck this shit, he didn’t do a thing to deserve dying like this. Neither did Steph or Duke. They were good people, way better than him in every way, their only fault, the only reason they were beat and tied up and struggling in the back of some wacko white man’s van was because of him. 

“Sorry,” he croaked out. 

**Summer**

**1986**

Dick was attempting to coax Damian out of the small crawl space under the house when loud engine accompanied by the sound of shifting gravel caught his attention. With a resigned sigh, Dick left the young boy where he was and instead went over to the living room, where Bruce and Tim were sticking their noses out, carefully moving aside the curtain as they snooped on whoever had came up. 

“It’s that guy again.” Tim muttered as he scrunched his nose in distaste. “The creepy ass white guy, remember?” He had come by several times, looked around the whole place. It had made Dick uncomfortable and he and Tim had tried to scare him off by knocking against the walls and moving furniture a bit. Yet, here he was once again.

“All white men are creepy.” Dick answered automatically before frowning. “Except you and Alfred, my apologies Bruce.”

The man only smiled and shook his head. “It’s true, white men are a fucking plague. Colonizing. Raping. Writing their own history. We acknowledge the- are those children fucking tied up?” His voice deepened with the heat of his anger. Both Dick and Tim’s heads whipped back towards the window. 

“Shit.” Dick gasped out. “Shit.” His eyes followed the stark white figure of a man, a mask with the approximate appearance of a clown now over his face as though that could hide himself and all his deeds and evilness from Allah. Dick wanted to wrap his hands around the man's throat, shove him down, let the kids- only one was barely able to stand- be free and not die slowly on these grounds. 

But he couldn’t. Whatever force above or curse didn’t allow them to interfere with anyone with anything near violence. It’s why he couldn’t stop what happened to Bruce and his children. Unless they could distract the man and get the kids free, but, shit, that kid was shaking and in no way drive away if they did do any of that. It was a lost cause, Dick knew it. 

“They’re all black.” Tim said in a horror-struck whisper, his fingers clutched at the curtains. “How horrible is that? After all these years, anyone different is still treated second class? Still being anything but white can still get you killed or shunned. What the hell. Can’t- can’t we help? Bruce? What can we do?”

Dick shook his head. He was distantly aware of the tears that streamed down his face as he watched a girl, battered and bruised, be dragged out of the vehicle by her long blonde hair. Dick wanted to grab his arm and twist it behind his back, get him away from those kids. He closed his eyes and breathed out, “We can only pray.” 

**Winter**

**2009**

For one night and one day, all seemed well enough with Roy, with the exception of the times he began to vomit profusely in the kitchen sink and the bathroom toilets, but Dick stayed vigilant and watched him closely. The only one who didn’t conceal themselves was Jason, who eagerly tried to talk to the young man before getting rejected. After the three times, Jason chose to sulk elsewhere. The others would came over and quietly voice their concerns, especially Cassandra and Damian, who were particularly fond of the man. 

That was part of why he wanted to keep the man's soul as safe as Dick could- his siblings. They grew fond of him as they watched him grow up and enjoyed his presence, but didn’t wish for him to get hurt in any way. And while Dick wasn’t like them, didn’t watch him and his family whenever the visited, he had seen how wonderfully happy he caused everyone to become. Roy was good. 

It was the second night, after Roy had stepped outside to talk on that little device, which everyone figured had to be a telephone. Dick stayed inside the house, listening to his muffled voice. When he came back inside, his eyes were red, and tears streamed down his dark cheeks. He paced about for a few minutes before going back outside. He climbed into his vehicle, sat there for a few minutes as he thought, before driving off.

A hand pressed against his shoulder. Dick turned back and met Cassandra’s dark, worried eyes. “I’m worried.” 

“Me too.” Dick signed back. “Wait with me, please?” 

They curled up together near the front door, neither of them speaking as they waited for Roy to return. Hours passed as they sat in wait, their siblings walked past them with their own worried looks, but went off to read or play or brood in their own silence. Dick was just about wondering if he wasn’t going to return, when bright lights washed over the front, blinding him through the windows. Roy came stumbling inside, smelling of sweat and alcohol. Dick reached out to steady him, but Roy only backed himself up against the front door, slowly falling down. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he slurred out, wiping at his eyes before dropping his face on his knees. “Mmm fuck.” 

Dick studied him for a moment- he was clearly drunk, maybe even a little high, shivering violently from the fact it was winter and he had stepped out with only a sleeveless shirt and ripped jeans. He crawled over towards the sofa where his bag still was, fiddling with something. Jason appeared next to Dick, grabbing his shoulder. 

“Dick, that’s a fucking lot of heroin, he’s drunk and I saw those pills he stuffed in his jeans earlier today. He’s gonna OD if he takes that shit.” Jason whispered, watching Roy sit up and search around his arms and legs. Dick hadn’t seen him grab any pills, it had to be when he got distracted with something with Damian. Knowing Jay, he would yell and slap the drugs out of his hands, resulting in a situation that would defuse this now, but not anything that could happen later on. 

Dick stepped forward and crouched in front of Roy. “Roy, hey. Hey. Let’s talk about this, okay? Let’s talk about this.”

**Winter**

**2009**

They an ethereal being- shining with a warm smile and dark skin that Roy always insisted that angels or greater beings must have whenever he got into theological debates with Ollie. Their hair was on the longer side, black hair draping over his shoulder. The shape was one of a man, but Roy knew what this being had to be. A small sob broke his lips. 

“Are you here to take me away?” He whispered, his right hand clutching onto the syringe. Couldn’t this at least wait until he was high and away from the world enough to accept death more freely. 

“No, no Roy.” Their voice was deep and soothing. Thick dark eyebrows pressed closer together. “Not to take you away. To keep you here. You are going to hurt yourself Roy. No one wants to see that happen.” 

Roy shook his head and sniffed. “Yes, yes they do. Every- everyone is fucking, fucking tired of me and done with me. Ollie hates me now, he- he hates me. It’d jus’ be best for everyone if I slipped away through the cracks. If I died. No more- no more dealin’ with stupid Roy Harper. This- they keep saying they should’ve known, Ollie adopting a- a native kid. Yeah… it’d be best if you let… let me go.” His grip on the syringe nearly loosened, but he tried his best to sit up. His head felt dizzy and cold and hurt. “Good fer nothin’ Roy…’ 

The ethereal being’s smile turned into a sad twist down. Roy felt a brief pang at being the reason something so beautiful and wonderful would feel momentary pain. “Roy, no. You’re such a good, great man. The people of this house, they are so grateful for you. You’ve helped ease their long winded pain and kept them from festering in their own darkness and anger and pain. So, please, put that down. Let’s work on what it hurting your own soul, because good men such as you do not deserve any of this. Maybe you think you do, but we know that you do not. Please, Roy.” 

“I’m not a good man,” Roy slurred out, glancing down at the syringe in his hands. He licked his lips. “ ‘m not good at all.”

“You are though.” The being whispered.

**Winter**

**2009**

For a second, Dick thought he might have to wring the damn needle out of Roy’s hands, but he man set it down with a dazed look and began to weep loudly, lying back into the couch. He cried and cried for such a long time. Dick and Jason worked on disposing the drugs and anything else that could get Roy into another state such as this as Cassandra and Alfred set to work wrapping Roy up in several blankets. 

By mid morning, Damian had crawled onto the sofa with Roy, and nobody had the courage to tell him to leave him be, instead letting the young boy lie there with him. Jason, Steph, and Duke were in the room, trying to figure out how to work Roy’s little telephone and arguing on who to call. 

“Call Dinah.” Dick said. “She’s his best bet.” 

When Dinah arrived with a handsome dark haired man Dick remembered coming once before, Roy was still a little out of it. He spent the last two days vomiting and weeping and letting Stephanie hug him, even though he always muttered about her being ‘so damn cold.’ Within the hour, they gathered Roy and his few belongings and were out of the house. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof so that all happened huh? Well, we are done with the mostly bad stuff and will have some good, fluffy stuff coming! Actual Dick and Roy interactions, being a single dad, and being roommates with uhh like nine ghosts lol 
> 
> Also I made a playlist for this story if ya'll wanna listen: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6fxa805FioNSvVDrwQQ6cC 
> 
> thanks so much for reading I love you all <3


	6. Summer 2013

**Summer**

**2013**

“Hey Artemis,” Roy said through a yawn as he fished through his pockets to find the key for the cabin. For one horrible second, he wondered if he had gotten it after such a long drive, but his fingers wrapped around the damn things. “Can you put Lian on the phone? I told her I’d call once I got here safely.” It was something that had become a routine after Roy had began his job at a mechanic shop last year. He had generally stayed at the house until that point, and it had made his young daughter experience some major separation anxiety when he had started leaving early in the mornings. The obligated phone call had then became what settled her down- she knew he was still around, just an easy call to hear his voice and know that he would come right away. 

“Sure thing. I made her some red pancakes, so she’s gonna have to wash her grimy, sticky little fingers first.” Artemis replied, her voice became farther away as she called out, “Lian! I have your dad on the phone, please wash your hands before you talk to him!” Roy could make out the small elongated reply of “okay” from his daughter. “God, not to sound all sappy and shit, but I am so gonna miss having this kid around all the time.”

Roy scoffed, thinking about all the times the teenage girl complained about crying and having to watch Alvin and the Chipmunks the Squeakquel on a constant, annoying loop (until she discovered The Lion King), but let her have her moment of melancholy. “Yeah, Lian’s hella gonna miss you and her grandma. Me too, of course. Free babysitting does not show up on your doorstep.”

“Ha ha.” Artemis snarked back. “Okay the baby’s here. Here you go Lian…” 

“Hiiiii daddy!” Lian’s squeaky voice yelled excitedly into the phone. “Dí Arty made me- she made me red pancakes! They were sooo good! Red is the best food daddy.” She declared, her tiny voice continuing to chatter on about breakfast and how much red was good. 

Roy listening intently, sharing his own opinions as he leaned against the truck he had borrowed for the day. All the pent up nerves he had been feeling earlier was starting to subside as he talked to his daughter. The last time he had stepped into this house he had completely lost it- not only did he have a depressive episode, but he had actually wanted to kill himself. Sure, that was something he had mildly thought about in the past, but he hadn’t actually really wanted to until that moment. That weight was something that hung from his shoulders, despite how he felt he moved past it. He breathed out, licked his lips. His left hand clutched the keys tightly. “Okay, baby, daddy’s gotta hang up now. Imma be cleaning up the house your nana Dinah is letting us live in. I’ll call you again at lunch time, alright sweetie pie?” 

“Okay daddy.” Lian answered. “I- I’m draw for you. Okay?” She had that very serious voice of hers that if they were together in person, she would be clutching his shoulders in her tiny hands and staring at him with her dark eyes. It made his eyes tear up a little bit. She was such a good kid. 

“Okay baby. Bye-bye I love you.” He smiled to himself as his daughter replied with a large smooch into the phone before the line went dead. Wow, what the hell did Roy do to get such a wonderful, cute little sunshine of a daughter? As he made his way over to the house, the smile was still on his lips.

 

The man who strolled into the house was not the same man who had left not so long ago (four years ago was it now? Maybe five? Dick always found it a little tedious to keep track of the years). His shoulders were wide and thick, his arms full of muscle that showed as he stretched them back as he glanced around, his face and body not unhealthy and much too skinny for his frame. His hair was a natural brown and tied in a loose knot at the base of his neck.

“Hey, any of you guys around?” Roy called out, a small smile on his face as his eyes darted about the living room. He shoved his hands inside his jeans pockets, simply stood there as he waited for an answer. 

Dick had only just stepped into view when Cassandra came bounding towards Roy, her arms wrapping around his shoulders before she pulled away, her hands flying fast in her excitement at seeing Roy. Dick grinned, her excitement contagious, and came up behind her. “Cassandra’s just saying how happy she is to see you. We all really missed having you around.” 

Roy startled at blinked at Dick for a few seconds. “Um. Uh. Hi.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, a huff of laughter leaving him. “Sorry, uh,” he brought up his hands and slowly signed as he spoke, “Hey Cassandra. Nice to see you. I bought another sketchbook, I’ll grab it in a bit.”

The look on Cassandra’s face when Roy began to sign was priceless. Her whole face lit up, her hands grasping at her cheeks. It was something Dick loved seeing- her smile. Most of her smiles in the recent years were all traced back to Roy. He really was something, wasn’t he? “Thank you.” 

The smile Roy gave her in return was sweet, a small tug of his lips. In all honesty, Dick was as happy to see his smile as much as his sisters. It made his grin widen, which, somehow, didn’t seem possible until it did. “Sorry for not coming for a few years. I… needed time. Uh.” Roy turned to Dick and held out his hand. “Hey, I don’t think we ever properly met. Roy Harper.” 

Dick took his hand in his. “Dick Grayson.”

 

The house was astoundingly the very same as it had always been, but so entirely different. For one, the ghosts of the house didn’t seem to find any point of pretending they weren’t around. As Roy went around cleaning rooms, he would bump into someone without meaning to- Jason, who accepted his fist bump of a hello, Stephanie who gave him a long hug before bounding away through a fucking wall, Duke and Tim, both of them Roy had never met before, but the kids offered to lend him a hand if he wanted it. Then, of course, there was Dick. 

Dick sort of just stayed around. As Roy cleaned up rooms and brought inside shit from the truck, Dick offered to help him. He would ask him questions and crack a joke, but generally stayed quiet in his assistance. In complete honesty, it unnerved Roy to be around the guy. This was the person that, while drunk and high and ready to die, had saved his life. The guy who Roy had absolutely thought was an angel and had, despite knowing the fact that actual ghosts lived in the house, continued to believe it was some sort of hallucination of his. 

Because, well, Dick Grayson was kinda sorta hella hot. He had long wavy black hair tied that was loose around his shoulders, a nice smile (and oh fuck when Roy had walked in and saw that man’s grin, wide and beautiful and fucking full of light- if Roy had been walking he would have stumbled back a step), a collection of light scars on his left cheek that contrasted with his dark skin, and damn did he look really good in that blue button up shirt of his. Really. He made Roy feel the contradictory of emotions- at ease, but nervous. 

It would have been great if he hadn’t been real, but he was and he seemed to have it in his mind that he was going to hover (metaphorically- Roy hadn’t seen any of them float off the floor, that would be too much for him to handle at any point of his life, really) around Roy. The guy had probably wanted to make sure Roy wasn’t going to shoot up in one of the rooms or something equally crazy like last time he had been here. Which was kind, but kind of annoying. At least Dick was silent enough. 

“Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Dick asked as he set down a box in that old room Roy always stayed in. Roy tilted his head to the side, noticing that Dick had a bit of an accent he couldn’t quite place. 

“Uhh, sure, ask away man.” Roy licked his lips, nerves bundling up in his chest and stomach as he waited for the other man to ask whatever was in his mind. All he could think he had to ask was about Roy’s addiction, recovery, what had happened that made him so fucking messed up. 

“What brings you back to our house?”

The question shocked Roy- he blinked and stared blankly at Dick before shaking his head and grinning. It hadn’t been what he thought it would be. These past few years were full of worried looks and constant questions and awkward silences from people he knew in his life. It was nice that someone wasn’t asking of the past, but the future he was working steadily for. “My daughter, mostly.” 

Excitement passed over Dick’s face, he leaned forward slightly, hands clasped behind his back, another large grin positively lighting up his face. His smiles made his eyes crinkle up. The rest of their time was spent talking about Lian, Roy happily telling all his favorite stories about his daughter that he couldn’t tell to Artemis or Paula since they knew them, or Dinah since they only had so much time in the day to talk between work and differing time zones. Dick listened intently, laughing and nodding along and seeming genuinely interested in every single word coming out of Roy’s mouth. 

 

Jason lifted up his eyebrows at Dick when he walked into the reading room. He had watched Roy leave a few hours ago, and had been waiting for Dick to finally get off the porch where he watched the man leave. It had been surreal- seeing Roy. In the past however many years, in the back of his mind, Jason was sure that he would never see him again. Then he came, smiling and looking at Dick like he was sent from heaven above and being all handsome and shit. 

“Soooo.” Jason stuck his tongue out at Dick as he placed his book done. Roy had brought in some new ones and Jason had immediately fell into the boxes to see what was there. He had been enthralled by what looked to be a first book of a series- The Golden Compass. The cover was black with what looked like a constellation the shape of a ferret or something with the name of the book written out in gold. It was interesting and most definitely not one of the books he had been reading in this house for years now. 

“So what?” Dick raised one eyebrow at him before going and sitting on top of Jason. 

“Hey! No! No! Stop that!” Jason whined out, pushing at that goddamned dick, who stayed for a few more seconds before falling off and onto the floor. “God you’re so fucking annoying ugh.” The face he pulled at Dick was given right back. “Stop it! I’m trying to talk to you!”

Dick smiled and shrugged. “Sorry, I’m in a little bit of a good mood.” His right hand reached up and played with one of his long locks of black hair. “You all are right, Roy is. There’s something,” he seemed to ponder on what word to use before unimaginatively settling on, “good about him.” 

Jason hummed in agreement, watching as his brother smiled down at the floor. There was something there, but for once Jason decided he wasn’t about to instigate shit. Whatever that was about would be Dick’s to sort out on his own. Instead he asked, “Is he coming back?”

The words out of Dick’s mouth made Jason grin, his whole body tingling with excitement from the potential what he said would bring. It was odd, Jason hadn’t felt this- this- happy and glad and great and excited and all this good shit in so fucking long it didn’t compare to the time he stole Roy’s game or got books from the guy. This was way better than anything. After a second, Jason shot up to go find Cass in case she hadn’t been privy to the news. 

“Roy’s going to live here.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey sorry for the wait! I had finals to do and this chapter was giving me some issues. Because of course that would happen when Roy and Dick finally get some interaction ugh. I think this chapter is a little short, but don't worry, more will come for 2013! I just wanted to put this out since its been a while and get like more motivation! Oh also, time jumps and separations between characters won't happen as much since, by now, they are all sort of meshing together and living at the moment as one, you know?
> 
> Correct me if I am wrong, but Dí in Vietnamese means "aunt." 
> 
> As always thanks for reading, please leave a kudos, a comment, subscribe, check out another of my fics if you want! Love you guys hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	7. Summer 2013

The house was oddly quiet for the last few days. There was the odd bumps during the day and night that made Lian scared and had her squirming her way into his bed in the middle of the night, but nothing beyond that. None of the ghosts came out. He wondered if they were hiding away like they used to, back when he was a teenager first coming around. It probably had to do with Lian being around and them unsure how to deal with a baby- a little talkative two year old. Lian had settled herself down for a nap when Roy went into the reading room.

It was their favorite- or, well, at least it was Jason’s favorite room. It was where he mostly stayed, reading books and playing with an outdated Pokemon game. Shit, maybe Roy should add that onto the list of things to get. Roy knocked on the wall.

“Hey, anyone in here?” He rubbed at his eyes. These past few days had been spent getting into the groove of his daughters schedule, which meant that he often spent her naptime napping as well. It was nice, having this time with his daughter, he would miss it once he had to start that small job in town (it wasn’t anything like his mechanic job, but the lady from the art supply store was nice enough to offer him a job when she learned he was living here. Apparently she remembered him the odd few times he came to buy Cassandra a sketchbook).

A flicker of movement came from the chair and Jason materialized. It was odd- Roy couldn’t quite describe it beyond that he was not there, but there. His earring swung as he adjusted his seating position. One of Roy’s books was in his hands.

“Sup?” Jason tilted his head back, a mischievous little smile.

Roy leaned against the arm of a different chair, facing the kid. It hit Roy, suddenly, seeing Jason that he was exactly the same as when they first met, years ago, in this very room. He had been fifteen and coming to terms slowly with the lingering feelings he had whenever Wally West smiled his way and had thought of this kid when he climbed back into bed with Wally and a little ghost kid next to him. While he knew, of course he knew, it still hurt at his chest to see a kid stuck like this. Before, it had just been something- just was how it was. But, well, Roy was older now and it hit like a fucking freight train whenever he really thought about it. To see all of them and know how they looked the moment, however it was, may it be brutal or slow or fast or with illness, they died.

“What’s with all of you hiding?” He said slowly, trying not to let his thoughts go on.

Jason’s eyebrows scrunched together as he gave an exaggerated shrug. “I dunno man, we just all kinda feel weird if we show up in front of your daughter. Like, how the fuck will you explain all this shit to her? And, well, dad is- Bruce is a little worried about having a kid here. He always is. We don’t have a good track record, you know? Kids. He was so sure- Bruce is. I don’t know. Sorry, I got jumbled. The old mans just paranoid as fuck and we all just follow what he says most of the time.”

Despite how he tried to hide it, Roy got what he was about to say- they were sure that, in some way, Roy was going to die in this house.

Roy nodded slowly. “Bruce is- he’s the older guy right? Cassandra and the kids father? He all of your guys dad?”

Jason hummed. “Kinda. We didn’t all die a family, but we’re living as one now. It’s better this way.” He looked down at the book in his hands. “I’m really enjoying this by the way. It’s interesting, them having their souls so out in the open, yet they can still be hidden. I can’t stop thinking about that guy whose dæmon is a dolphin, how he let his life be solely on the ocean all for her. Of course, he couldn’t properly live without her, but that was his love for her... “ He trailed off, his eyes glazing over before he abruptly shook his head and frowned. “Anyways- it's your daughter. You wanna let her get acquainted with a bunch of dead people, that’s your choice I guess.”

 

Crying rang from the front of the house. Roy quickly stumbled onto his feet and rushed his way over towards the kitchen, were apparently his daughter was alone in, fuck. He accidently fell asleep in his rooms chair while he left Lian in the living room watching Yo Gabba Gabba! the current bane of existence, honestly, with mesmerizing colors that admittedly taught good lessons, but reeled him- a twenty-two year old- way better than anything else, which was much too alarming for him to figure out.

When Roy slid into the kitchen, it was to see an old white man in a white button up and slacks crouching in front of his daughter. He barely contained himself from yelling and pushing at the guy, reminding himself that this was likely (hopefully) a ghost and, well, it looked like he was getting her to calm down.

“You okay baby?” Roy asked, bending down next to the man. He placed his hand on his daughters shoulder, which shook with residual sobs.

“Mmm-hmm. I- I just fell a bit.” Lian sniffed as she rocked her body back and forth, slowly stopping her tears and shaking as she calmed herself. “Mister Penny- Pennyworth,” she spoke the name with determination, but slipped over it just slightly, “helpeded me.”

Roy nodded his head and pressed a kiss to Lian’s little cheek. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright. And I’m glad Mister Pennyworth was here to help you. Did you tell Mister Pennyworth thank you?” When Lian shook her little head, they both chimed out with, “Thank you.”

Mister Pennyworth gave them a smile, his hand reaching out towards Lian before pulling back. “It was no problem whatsoever. I must say, Miss Lian is such a small joy, Mister Harper. It is quite a pleasure to meet her acquaintance, as well as attend to her in her time of need.” The man rose up with a loud, unnecessary groan that made Lian giggle. “Honestly, I’d be happy to watch this little one any time. I do have so much time on my hands.”

As he walked away, Roy wondered if he just accidently got himself another live-in babysitter.

 

The bed was warm and inviting after being away most of the day at work. After much pestering from Alfred Pennyworth, who insisted part of his job (whatever that was, Roy wasn’t about to question the qualifications of a ghost living in his house) went to child care, Roy left Lian in his capable hands for the first time today. When he arrived back home, Lian, Jason, and Stephanie had been sitting transfixed in front of the television watching one of her Nick Jr shows, Lian curled up in Jason’s side. At the same time, Alfred had taken full reign of the kitchen, insisting that Roy should rest and that all was fine.

Roy felt guilty- this was the kind of thing he left Paula’s for, but, well, it wasn’t like these guys had anything else going in their lives.

So, Roy took a quick nap.

When he blearily blinked awake, his whole body felt heavy with a large weight and his legs tingled. After a few minutes, Roy was able to sit up. That’s when he noticed the little tony body in bed next to him, covered with sheets. Roy smiled, placing his hand on his daughter’s little head. “Hey Lian, baby, let’s get some food, yeah?” Lian wiggled even deeper into the blankets, causing Roy to laugh, “C’mon baby, let’s not- shit!”

His hands flew up, his heart beating much too fast as a little boy with wide green eyes and a head of black hair blinked at him. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck! After a few seconds, his heart slowed down, his brain coming up with a memory of a little kid who snuck into bed with him and Wally, asking in a high pitched plea to stay in the bed with them. At the time, then, Roy had been young and tired as hell and hadn’t really looked at the kid, but now… now he saw him. Fuck, he couldn’t be more then five.

“Hey, sorry, I thought you were Lian.” Roy placed his hand on his chest and directed his breath. “Whatcha doing?”

“I wanted to sleep. I can’t really anymore… me and Cass used to sleep here, but now she goes and hides a lot.” The kid scrunched up his nose. “Sometimes… I come with you two. I didn’t mean to make you mad.” He rubbed at his eyes.

Roy slowly shook his head. “Nah, you didn’t. I just didn't expect a different kid. Hey- you ever wanna sleep with us, that’s just fine. If Lian says it's’ okay, I might even cuddle you. I’m a notoriously good cuddler, best in the west. Now, hey, let’s get up, yeah?”

 

Dick liked watching Roy. Somedays, he would just sit out and watch as Roy fiddled with something in the garage, the two of them idley talking. There was something so nice about him that Dick couldn’t place. He just liked to watch him talk to Lian and fix her hair and press kisses to her face to make her giggle, he liked watching as he coaxed Damian out of bed or a corner of a cupboard, he liked watching as the sun made his brown hair look red and sweat ran down his thick, exposed arms and he would look up with his eyebrows all scrunched up and just laugh at something Dick said or explain something about what he was during or the modern world.

Dick sat on a chair, his legs up, his chin resting on his legs, a completely unfamiliar yet not unwelcome tune playing from Roy’s tiny little telephone (“It’s called a cell phone,” Roy handed it to him, swiping his hand across the screen. “Pretty cool, huh?”). “This kind of reminds me of growing up.” He whispered, looking at his hands, at the little faint scars across his left fingers from an accident as a child. “Nice and simple, you know?”

Roy hummed. “A little? Most quiet I ever got was here, and I spent a lot of it scared of you guys.” He grabbed towel and wiped at his dirty hands. “Everything always felt so hectic and loud, always changing. Going from the reservation to a millionaire’s son to an addict out on the streets. Here, nothing really changes, but it completely changes. Does that make sense? I feel like I’ve been reading too much to keep up with one man book club Jason Todd.”

Dick laughed. “Yeah, I think I understand.” His eyes followed the movement of Roy’s arm, the muscles beneath the skin shifting. “I’m glad you’re here.” _You make everything brighter_ , he didn’t add.

“Me too. It’s hella nice here.” He looked like he was about to say more, when high pitched laughter rang from the yard. They both glanced over to see Damian and Lian playing with a reluctant looking Jason, the kid covering his eyes as he counted loudly.

“... nine… yellow…. ten… eleven…. twelve…. elephant... ahhhhhhhh _twenty_! Ready or not here I come!”

When Dick glanced back at Roy, the man was smiling softly, his head tilted to the side, wisps of hair clinging to his neck, wet with sweat. Dick rubbed at his chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hope this was good! I like how I ended it, something felt good about it. Unrelated, but I highly reccomended reading the Golden Compass, the entire series is hella good and I'm really excited for the show it's going to have next year. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading <3


	8. Fall 2013

**Fall**

**2013**

Dick slung a scarf around Roy’s neck before he could make his way out of the house. It was a warm blue and white thing that the man had gotten as a Christmas present from Ollie last year. It was the first gift Roy had gotten from his adoptive father in years, the second being this house. Roy leaned forward, letting Dick secure the scarf on him. 

“Pretty sure it's not that cold dude.” He grinned though, letting the other man mother him as he pleased. He had gotten in a habit of just letting the ghosts do whatever they felt- watching television all night long, making lists of things they would like to have (more books, board games, video games, all the Harry Potter movies, a cake pan), letting Dick dress his daughter up for a picture to post on Instagram, that sort of shit. It was nice, having them all around. 

Dick rolled his eyes. “Roy, trust me, you’re going to come home and complain. Plus, as Lian says, I am a fashion icon. This really pops with your gray outfit.” He pulled his hands away, shoving them in his pants pockets. One of his little suspenders drooped down over his shoulder, but Dick payed it no mind.

“Yeah, iconic for a three year old. You spend too much time with teenagers from the eighties.” Roy scrunched up with nose and blanched, remembering Stephanie and Dick searching for clothes for Lian on his laptop, picking out some of the gaudiest, worst clothes he’d ever seen. “Now, I gotta go. Oh! Tell Alf that I bought some more food coloring, it’s in the cupboard where we keep all the sprinkles and shit. Oh, maybe he saw during the night? Whatever. Gotta go, see you later.” As he turned away, Roy lightly bumped his fist against Dick’s shoulder, a smile on his lips. 

 

It was simple, but the moment Roy had learned that Dick had a small passion for sewing, the man had gone and bought some thread and fabric. 

“Honestly, I do not know shit, but uh, I thought you’d like it. And I found this cute little sewing machine on Amazon, that’s going to be coming in by the end of the week, cool huh?” Roy had leaned towards Dick, half of his body atop of Dick as he showed him a picture of the machine on his laptop. Then he had pulled away and gone because someone had called his name. 

It was simple, but it meant the world to Dick. He had made Roy a shirt that the man had claimed was ‘hella great’ and had worn on several occasions, and was currently working on a little Halloween costume for Lian, since the girl had asked him kindly to do so. He was methodically pulling the thread through the soft white fabric, his mind elsewhere. 

Sewing reminded him of before.

When he was a child and would lean against his mother's legs and watched her sew up his torn up trousers, a scolding on her lips as well teasing words on how they were beginning to fit him much too tight. When he was moderately older and learned how to do so for himself, a mismatch of fabric covering up holes in his clothes until he was able to buy something nicer when Haly’s stopped in a big enough town. By early adulthood, he had began to make clothes out of fabric left out and forgotten- oh Allah, he couldn’t help but have a few minutes to laugh at the memory of himself walking around in a pair of trousers made out of red and white striped fabric from a tent that had gotten badly torn from a storm. 

“Whatcha laughing bout?” Roy yawned, dropping onto the sofa next to Dick. He stretched his arms up as he did so, his hand landing close to the back of Dick’s neck. 

“Remembered something dumb.” Dick shrugged with a tilt of one shoulder, his eyes focusing back on the fabric in his hands. The little strips of gold were coming along nicely. He caught the questioning look Roy was giving him, and before the other man could ask, Dick began to elaborate. “I grew up and worked in a circus, did I ever tell you that?”

“Man, what? A legit circus? That’s… wow. Whatever could a guy like you get up to at a circus?” Roy leaned closer to Dick, his body angled oddly, but he didn’t seem to care much. 

“Well…” Dick smiled down at his hands and began to explain some of what was on his mind. When he mentioned the tent pants, Roy had turned red in the face with his laughter, doubled over, his head dropping onto Dick’s shoulder, his breath warming up his being. “They were ridiculous, honestly. I think I wore them when I met Cheyenne, that’s embarrassing.” 

Roy’s head lifted off his shoulder. “Cheyenne?”

Dick felt his face heat up and he gave a small shrug of his shoulder, going back to the fabric in his hands. Despite being such a large part of his final months of his life, after a handful of years, Dick had stopped thinking of her so much. It hurt, what had happened, the twist of fate that caused him to end up as a lonely soul for quite a few years, but she had become distant. A memory, a shock of bright hair and a wide smile, a joke or two, but not much else came to mind unless he dug through his mind for longer than it should be. “I bought this house for us. Took a lot of saving up and arranging, but I was going to settle down here with her. Never happened, obviously.” 

The other man hummed, but didn't push. Instead he leaned back towards Dick and pointed at the fabric in his hands. “How’s Lian’s little costume coming along?”

 

The hem of the dress Dick had made was that type of fabric that frilled outward and made it look like a princess dress. Lian had excitedly ran around the living room, twirling around and letting Roy pick her up and spin her. He had picked up a pair of white wings and a gold headband to wear, her little angel look complete with it.

“I’m cute daddy!” She exclaimed, grinning up at him and patting at the bottom of her dress. 

Roy laughed. “Oh sweetheart, you are the absolute cutest! You ready for trick or treating? I heard from Joanie that some of the houses are gonna be  _ real _ scary, but don’t worry, daddy will protect you.” He held her at his hip, her little foot tapping against his back so her little sneakers could light up bright rainbow colors. 

Lian cheered, “That’s why- why you gots must-cools!” Her little finger poked at his arm. 

Roy couldn’t help but laugh, head tilted back, before he gave her a little kiss on the cheek. “Yup, that is exactly why. Now, wanna say bye-bye before we go. Oh, wait, shit, sorry, do not repeat that word, hear me babygirl? We gonna take some pictured first, say bye, then go. Sound good?” He glanced down at his daughter, whose little nose was scrunched up in thought. 

“Yes! Let’s took picture with Dickie!” She exclaimed, wiggling her body so he would place her down. He did so and watched her run off towards the reading room, where they had last seen Dick, playing a game of Uno with Jason and Cassandra. Roy fumbled with his phone when he got to the doorway. There was Dick Grayson, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor, Uno cards forgotten in his lap, his gaze fixed on Lian as she spoke to him, her hands grasping at his much larger one. A large smile was on his face, bright and handsome.

Why the hell did Dick have to be so damn sweet to his daughter? It just made him, like, a million times more handsome than he already was, honestly. And he was goofy and just- it was a lot. Roy bit at his bottom lip. He really needed to stop having these thoughts, these heart wrenching thoughts and moments and shit, about a dead man. This wasn’t some Hallmark movie.

Roy lifted his phone and snapped a few pictures of the moment. 

 

In all honesty, Roy had forgotten it was his birthday until after he got out of his morning shower, glad that this particular friday was his day off so he could mostly laze around and maybe pretend he wasn’t looking at Dick, when his phone began to ring. He blinked at the caller id before bringing it to his ear. 

“Hey Ol, what’s up?” He shifted from foot to foot, let the towel around his waist fall as he made his way over to his dresser to snag a pair of sweatpants. 

“Hey Roy. Just wanted to call to wish you a happy birthday.” Oliver’s voice was a little rougher on the phone, full of static, shaky. 

Roy breathed in and laughed. “Oh fuck, I forgot about that. Uh, thanks Ollie. Um. How- how have you been?” It had been a while since he had talked to his adoptive father, hadn’t even seen him in person since Lian’s First Laugh Ceremony when she was four months old. Dinah would give him updates sometimes, but Oliver was still a bit of a sore subject for him. 

Just… how do you forgive someone for kicking you out? By doing so by punching the fuck out of him? He was kid. 

“I’ve been alright. Connor is on his school's baseball team, that’s been something. He, he misses you. I do too. I… maybe I shouldn’t do this over the phone, but, I love you Roy. And everyday I live with my mistake. I don’t expect an easy forgiveness or anything, but I’d like to… try.” Oliver’s voice shook even worse. It was easy to be mad at Oliver. It was also easy to think about all the nice moments they had together. They might have begun to be strained and rude to one another when he grew older, but fuck wasn’t that because Roy really was a fucked up teenager who couldn’t express himself well enough? 

This was his dad, and sure he fucked up plenty of times, but this was also he guy who pulled white dad trying by making trips to this house in New fucking York and had a goofy mustache and mixed ketchup with his mayonnaise and who had cried when he first held Lian in his arms. 

One steady breath. A heartbeat. “Dad, I miss you too. Um. Maybe we- Lian and I- can visit you all sometime or something? I don’t know, we can figure shit out later. Oh! Wanna talk to the baby? I think she might be awake. Hold up, I am naked, answered this while getting out of the shower.” 

“Still a bit of an over sharer huh?” Oliver laughed. It sounded a little bit wet, but Roy didn’t mention it. He just placed his phone down and properly dressed, put the phone back to his ear, and went to Lian’s room, where she was cuddling with a Pillow Pet, Damian on the other side of the unicorn, his face pressed to the soft fabric, all the while talking with Oliver, asking more about how his life was faring. 

As much as he didn’t think he’d ever admit it- it was nice, talking to Oliver. He had forgotten just how much he enjoyed speaking with him and joking and laughing. How much he just loved his father. There was still issues they needed to unpack and talk through (Roy could hear Dinah in his head, all her terms and friendly yet unyielding tone), but it was nice to have this moment. After Lian finished speaking to Oliver, Roy took back the phone to say bye. 

“She’s a good kid. I, uh, saw her Halloween costume. The pictures you posted on Instagram I saw those. She looked adorable. Couldn’t help but notice that man in that one picture, he seems to really care for her. He someone yu seeing or?” Oliver’s voice had a hint of teasing that made Roy simultaneously want to die and explode and freeze up. 

He spluttered for a good minute, tripping over his own words before settling on “No! Sheesh Oliver! No! Dick’s just a friend! Oh my god I’m hanging up on you now.” What the fuck, Roy really did not want to discuss any possible romantic emotions that he may be having about a ghost. True to his word, Roy hung up the phone, tossed it onto his bed, and stood with his hands over his face for a few minutes, a low groan escaping his mouth, starting deep in his throat, as he attempted to collect himself for the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a fun one to write! Finally, some actual interaction, huh?

**Author's Note:**

> Hope this was good! Please leave a comment, a kudos, and keep on the look out for more! I'm really excited for this story and I hope you all are as well.


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